A Weekend in Auckland New Zealand

A Weekend in Auckland

A weekend in Auckland, New Zealand, a city of over 1.5 million people between harbors, mountains, gulfs, and rainforests. We spent three days here, and although not everyone agrees (especially Kiwis), this American loved Aukland.

Auckland, known as the “City of Sails,” offers a vibrant mix of urban and natural attractions. From the iconic Sky Tower, which provides panoramic views of the city, to the beautiful beaches and nearby islands, there is something for everyone to enjoy. Don’t miss the opportunity to explore the city’s diverse culinary scene, where you can indulge in delicious seafood and international cuisine.

Our Air B&B was located in the Central Business District (CBD), a perfect location. The streets are lined with eateries of every nationality and preference, from Moroccan to Mexican, fine dining to casual. Although I am not a shopper, a lover of that vocation could die happy here amongst the Gucci, Prada, Jimmy Choo, and Johnny Was storefronts, all elegant and adorned with sharply dressed security guards–inside and out.

Auckland is clean, with no homeless in sight.  The occasional graffiti splashes are short-lived; due to the Tag Out Trust, in which eight graffiti-removal trucks are dispatched daily to clean up about 200 tags. ‘Street art’ and ‘tags’ are different things. One is sanctioned and adds to a city’s allure; the other is not and does not. Downtown Auckland has done a great job.

A Favorite Restaurant: Le Chef

The food scene is off the hook, and we ate a lot. One of our favorite spots, which we visited three times, was a small French bistro situated off a narrow side street, Le Chef, at 1300 O’Connell Street.

Sitting in the rain under a sidewalk umbrella, our waiter approached. Loving the feel and vibe of the city, I asked for a glass of champagne, which was met with a blank look, followed by a knowing nod; “Ahhh…yes, chamPAN,” he repeated, intoning the word with a deadpan drawl. “So American,” he observed. “It is pronounced champagn-yah,” the last syllable said with a flourish, which I could almost see as if it appeared in a bubble by his mouth.

“OK, champangnyaaaah,” I repeated.

“Where in the States are you from,” he asked.

“Oregon.”

“Awe….Oregon,” he repeated dreamily.

“Oh, so French,” I responded. “It’s pronounced OreGUN.”

He raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in my direction, and we both laughed.

“I am going to visit OreGUN, one day.”

I looked at him doubtfully. “Are you being facetious or French,” I asked.

We laughed again.

“Oh no, I tried to go last year to the Shambala Festival, but this “virus” thing put a stop to that.”

The conversation flowed–as did the champagnnnnyah, the food was amazing, and the ambiance sublime. If in Auckland, Le Chef is a ‘must-eat’. Breakfasts were huge and hearty, escargot to die for, and lots of champagnnnnyah.

On our third and final day in the city, we found ourselves, once again, at LeChef with my French waiter. By now, we had established a rapport.

“Are you an owner here,” I asked.

“Oh no, I don’t even work here.”

“Again, facetious or French?”

Laughter.

“No, I am a friend of the owner. He called to ask if I could help him because nobody will come to work in the rain.”

A Favorite Speakeasy

In the evening, we went on a hunt for a renowned speakeasy. I have always loved the Prohibition era; as a kid playing dress up, I would find the most fringy gown, stockings with seams, chunky shoes, and elaborate feathers to adorn my hair. Although I have never smoked, I thought the long cigarette holder was the most elegant accessory I had ever seen. I would plunk Nina Simone or Billy Holiday into the Sony cassette player and be transported to another era. Dancing the night away, I pretended to smoke and drink while wooing men dressed like The Great Gatsby. So, upon completion of my Virgo-esque research, we discovered Caretaker. It did not disappoint.

Oregonians often say, ‘It’s raining, but it’s not wet,’ a sentiment only a true Oregonian would understand. In Aukland, the rain is wet—very wet! It was raining, and the street was deserted when our search began–and yes, it was a search. Eventually, we stumbled upon an unmarked doorway and stairs leading down a dimly lit hallway. My spidey sense kicked in. We were near. At the bottom of the stairs was a door buried amongst paint cans, with the word Caretaker in green, discreetly placed in the center, and like Alice going through the looking glass, BAM! We entered another world of music, 1920s-era dress, and cocktails.

The Caretaker doesn’t have drink menus; the bartender comes to you and has a ‘conversation,’ inquiring about your tastes, preferences, etc.…then they bring you a specially concocted experience in a glass. They tell you about what they have made and why. The ingredients are top-notch, and the craftsmanship is elevated to another level. The experience from start to finish is flawless. But, at $23.00 per drink, one was enough.

A Cool Museum

The next day, we visited the New Zealand Maritime Museum. It is a great museum covering all things boat, yacht, history, and ocean. You could easily spend half a day here, which my Sweet Kiwi would have loved. If you are an Aucklander, admission is free–(with proof). They also have harbor cruises on their restored ships. If you are interested in anything maritime, this is a fantastic place to spend some time—especially on a rainy day. It paired perfectly with our recent visit to Butler Point Whaling Museum.

Auckland was the most welcoming place. Strangers were happy to give us directions and share insights and insider tips. People talked and conversed with us as if we were old friends, and the City of Sails made this Yankee feel safe, secure, and at home amongst strangers.

Thank you, Auckland—-We will be back.

If you happened to dig this post, check out our day in Wellington here.